Perspectives on Korrak
by Soleil la bijoutiere
Summary: Genderbend. Avatar Korrak throughout his journey, seen by family, friends and foes alike. New story, my new baby, and I'm so proud of what I've done so far; I hope you like it. Chapter 1: Katara.
1. Katara: Déjà vu

The day of her husband's funeral was a beautiful one, with almost no clouds in the sky and birds singing on every tree. Nature seemed to follow its usual course, blissfully normal, and some may have found consolation in knowing that the cycle of life had done nothing but move forward, hoping that eventually they could do the same.

But not her. Aang would have loved to know that his official goodbye would take place in such a beautiful day, but Katara couldn't focus on anything when all the flags in the city were at half-mast and there were _so many _people in white. Anytime one of Aang's acquaintances or coworkers or admirers came to her to give their condolences, she hid how her teeth gritted: it was too much; she wanted to scream at them at the top of her lungs _"Get on with your lives! You didn't know him, you couldn't have known him like I did, so stop pretending and leave me alone with my grief, just LEAVE ME ALONE!"_

But she nodded and smiled faintly at every well-wisher, letting them take her wrinkled hands and pat her back.

The only ones she would never lash out to (and ironically, the only ones who would let her) were Zuko, Toph, Sokka and her children. Thank the heavens for them.

Kya had been impossible to locate but had still somehow sensed that something was wrong in Republic City. She had arrived two days ago at dusk with her fleece-lined bag and a wild, concerned look in her eyes, after being away for months without sending any letters; and only found out that her father had died two hours before. She was the only one that Katara had actively wanted to comfort, her poor lost little girl who never got to say goodbye.

Tenzin, her adored ever-responsible youngest, had taken over the duty of talking to the White Lotus masters for her and arrange the preparations for finding the next Avatar, and she didn't have enough words to thank him. It would be some time before he or she could be located and identified, but it was comforting to simply let other people take over, knowing the first thing they'd do would be telling Katara _"we found them."_

…

"_We found him. He lives right here in Harbor City, and he's… Mother, he can already bend three elements."_

"_His name is Korrak."_

…

The past four years had been surprisingly kind to her after the first strike of grief, and her daughter had helped like no other, but Katara went to meet Aang's reincarnation with a growing numbness in her bones. She knew the parents in passing, a sweet young couple who lived near the outskirts in a tiny igloo, and they were so considerate and polite, never mentioning any prickly subjects and only gushing about their son over three cups of green tea, that a bit their happiness rubbed off on her. She had just started to laugh along with their anecdotes of little Korrak's antics, and even happily shared some of her own Aang tales, when-

"_Mom!_ The bearded Lotus guy said there was a visitor I'd wanna meet!"

The heavy door opened with surprising ease considering the interloper was only four years old and not even up to Katara's waist, with baby fat clinging to his cheeks and little pink hands, a pout hidden somewhere behind his mouth. He wasn't anything she hadn't expected, just a Water Tribe toddler amongst a thousand looking at her in wonder, but when his father stood to make introductions, the boy ran up at Katara squealing her name and hugged her fiercely.

The teacup shattered.

Katara barely even heard it over the echo of Korrak's giddy shout, sat him on her knees and returned his hug. He pulled away and kissed her cheek, and only then did she notice that she was crying.

…

Even the so-called greatest waterbender alive and widow of the Avatar couldn't do much against the combined force of her own son, a protective father and a dozen worried White Lotus scholars, no matter how much she argued. She didn't even think they were completely in the wrong. Korrak couldn't be put at risk, and the terrorists who tried to abduct him would probably be only the first of many. If placing him in a compound until he came of age was what they needed to protect him, they'd do it.

_You want to shape him into another Aang. You want to make him obey you, yet you also want him to be decisive. You want to preserve his innocence, yet you expect him to know what to do when he's ready to face the world. _What _will he grow up to be?_

No one kept a closer watch on Korrak than Katara, despite all the White Lotus' guards and curfews and regulations. She knew perfectly well that _protection _didn't equal confinement, and supervision wasn't the same as control. The old impulse of wanting to freeze those old stiffs to the wall until they did what she wanted flared up every now and then, but forcing them to do things her way would be worse and more hypocritical than their own methods.

So Katara manipulated them, softly, with kind smiles and wise words that no one dared defy. She shamed them into letting Senna and Tonraq visit whenever they wanted without needing to tell the White Lotus in advance (half-hoping they would catch old Naartok yelling at their son and make him step down from his post), she told them nostalgic stories about Appa and Momo and Roku's dragon when they tried to refuse Korrak the right to keep the playful polar bear-dog cub he'd found in the tundra. She taught him healing and, more importantly, got him interested in it.

All the while, she saw her sweet protégé grow and thrive even in such a reclusive lifestyle. And grow he did! Korrak towered over her by the time he was thirteen (not that it was a great feat), at that time when he was all gangly limbs and a cracking voice. Even in his teen years he found it easy confiding in Katara, and that was the best gift he could have given her. Others only saw a friendly but rather arrogant teenager in the stupidest of ages, stubborn, impulsive and impulsively kind, and while she knew that part of him well, it was only the tip of the iceberg.

She doubted even his own parents knew how frustrated and worried he actually was about his shortcomings in airbending and the spiritual aspect of being the Avatar. She followed his progress closely, but taking care to never hover, and as a result he told her everything without Katara ever needing to ask. At fourteen and stumbling over his words, Korrak had told her about the first girl he crushed on (Anouk, his own age and daughter of one of his father's hunting partners; he couldn't remember her eye color but waxed poetical about her dry wit and mastery of the spear) and Katara gave him the spar of his life to put him out of his misery when she moved away.

The day of his firebending test, if Katara had been asked whether she trusted Korrak to travel the world on his own, she would have answered "yes". Well, maybe not on his own; after all, everyone needs counsel and support, elemental masters or not. He was seventeen now, well past the awkward age, nearing six feet two and capable of lifting a man over his head, and when he put his mind to it he could be exceptionally smart (unfortunately, he nearly always let his muscles do the thinking, _sigh_).

Her family's arrival had been on her mind for weeks on end, even before Korrak's firebending test. Meelo had only been a baby the last time she'd seen him, and now he appeared to be as much of a handful as Bumi and Korrak had been _(goodness forbid!)_. If Katara had to pick the one grandchild she liked spending time with the best, it would undoubtedly be Jinora. Ikki was like a twelve-year-old Aang on a sugar rush, which alternated between adorable and exasperating, and she wouldn't change a single moment with them for all the peace of the Spirit World.

Of course they would have to leave the next day.

She still had Kya; surprisingly, her baby girl had never left the South Pole again. Katara loved that her daughter had found her place in the world, and that she didn't see taking care of her mother as a burden but as a pleasure, but _oh, goodness, _she would have given her bending for seeing their family together again.

Republic City had been Aang's city, his and Zuko's brainchild, and no one loved it more than he had. To hear Tenzin talking under his breath about triads and economic injustice and those crazy Equalists who may or may not have a point for all their garbage, to her, was like seeing her husband's legacy torn apart and spat on. Adding to the injury was that Korrak, _the Avatar himself, _was forbidden to go there to help. He could learn so much in Republic City, and not only about airbending and spirituality; for all his naïveté, he'd be a breath of fresh air and probably just what they needed. Not to mention he'd probably have a blast beating up gangsters.

That night she said goodbye to him, much like her own Gran-Gran had sent her and her brother off to save the world seventy years before. He bowed to her and she hugged him, remembering a chubby little boy with a familiar spark in his eyes.

"Goodbye, Korrak."

Katara absently thought, _hugging Aang is just as beautiful in either life._


	2. Tenzin: Boys don't cry (part 1)

The first part might be lighthearted, but believe me; I chose the title for a reason. I'm (not) sorry.

_I try to laugh about it__  
__Cover it all up with lies__  
__I try and laugh about it__  
__Hiding the tears in my eyes__  
__Because boys don't cry__  
__Boys don't cry_

–The Cure

Tenzin had heard of children having to parent their fathers, but this was _ridiculous._

He'd known Korrak since the boy was a toddler, and, looking back, even then it was evident that he'd grow to be a difficult-no, infuriating-no, no, _exasperating_-scratch that, an utterly and incorrigibly _impossible _teenager. While the young Avatar grew up and trained in the compound, Tenzin would fly over two times a year (later reduced to once a year when the Equalist threat began to grow), and each time he arrived he found Korrak to be nothing but amiable, happy-go-lucky and eager to learn. Of course, the letters he got from the White Lotus tended to emphasize his lack of success in airbending and spiritual matters, but they never mentioned much of his _personal _development beyond words like "headstrong", "impulsive" or in the best cases, "a bit of a rebel". Then again, Tenzin thought that no letter could have prepared him to have Korrak as his pupil.

Honestly, sometimes he wanted to strangle him.

His memory of having taken a non-aggression vow usually returned after a while of humming mantras and meditating, but the peace of mind they brought him could only last for so long. Korrak was a good lad; he really was, when he wasn't being so blatantly arrogant, slacking off, or trying to indulge in modernistic frivolities (he was supposed to learn a certain ancient, sacred and spiritual art called _airbending, _for Yue's sake!).

For the past three days Tenzin had said to himself that it was temporal, that Korrak would eventually come about to apologize and learn responsibility if he gave the boy some space. Listening to Pema had never failed him. He still asked Meelo to promise him not to be as difficult a teenager as Korrak was. The five-year old stared up at his father while picking his nose and promptly fart-bended himself away to play with his sisters.

Well, there went that ancient, sacred and spiritual art.

Giving Korrak his space couldn't be done without first having a peaceful conversation and making each other's stance clear; hopefully both of them would be in a mood good enough to recognize their shortcomings (well, for Korrak to do it; after all, what had Tenzin done wrong so far?). "Giving Korrak some space" probably did _not _mean "letting him sneak off to play a pro-bending match".

Oaths aside, Tenzin was going to tear the boy's ponytail off.

Now he kind of understood why Kya and Bumi used to laugh so much when he told them the naughtiest things he'd done as a boy. Compared to what he was seeing –_goodness, it hurt to admit it– _he _was_ rather easy to laugh at. And even what Korrak had done wasn't that bad if you compared it to Bumi's escapades back in the day (_shudder_).

…

There wasn't that many perks to being a member of the council, unless you counted excessive media attention and migraines, but it did help Tenzin to get inside the arena without any fuss from the grizzled old janitor (whom he vaguely recognized as a former pro-bender whose poster Kya used to kiss goodnight) other than a snarky "better take an umbrella, ya never know when some sucker's gonna go for a swim".

This turned out to be prophetic regarding Tenzin's young pupil, who, for an elemental master, was giving one heck of a sorry performance. Not that Tenzin knew anything about pro-bending. Because he didn't. Honestly.

(Korrak was totally reminding him of that mudslug Gong the Goner from the Huzhang Hippo-Cows, though; he'd been the laughing stock of the tournament ten years before).

Tenzin walked up to the edge of the plank shortly before Korrak's head and shoulders emerged from the water, and if he hadn't been so irritated, he probably would have taken pride in how his simple presence made the boy so visibly ashamed of his behavior that he couldn't say anything more than a nervous;

"Oh… hey, Tenzin."

"Once again, you have flagrantly disobeyed my orders. You were to stay on the island!" A proper lecture could wait until they were back at the temple; he couldn't start a lecture in the middle of such a crowded place. "Let's go."

He had already taken a few steps towards the exit when Korrak spoke, this time in a much more decisive tone;

"No. I'm kind of in the middle of something."

Tenzin stopped; he didn't even bother breathing. It was time he stopped sticking to the rules and spoke his mind.

"I have tried my very best to get through to you by being gentle and patient," he said, turning around, "but clearly, the only thing you respond to is force! So I am _ordering_ you to come back to the temple, _right now!_"

By then he was yelling, surprised by his own vehemence but too angry to care; why couldn't he just listen? Why couldn't they find a common ground? Why couldn't Korrak see that Tenzin was trying his best, that those ancient teachings were all he had ever known?

_Why did everything he ever did have to go wrong?_

It seemed that Korrak was in the same mood as his mentor, and didn't hold anything back.

"Why? So I can sit around and meditate about how bad I am at airbending? You know, I'm beginning to think there's a reason I haven't been able to learn it! Because, maybe, I don't even _need_ it!" The venom in his words was a little surprising, especially considering how _little_ effort Tenzin had seen him put into getting better.

(Later he'd realize that that was _precisely_ Korrak's problem: he had to make an effort. Bending had always been easy as breathing for him; all he ever needed to do was perfect it. Now not only did he face being stuck in a single place and supervised around the clock _–then why the hell did I leave the South Pole in the first place? A prisoner in the compound, a prisoner in Air Temple Island, where's the difference?! When are they going to let me do __**something**__ on my own?!–, _he was incapable of doing something that should've been easy. He was failing. He wasn't the Avatar the people deserved. He was frightened).

"What? That is a ludicrous suggestion! The Avatar needs to learn airbending! It's not optional!"

"No! _This_ is what I need to learn," Korrak said, pointing at the playing field, "modern styles of fighting!"

"Being the Avatar isn't all about fighting, Korrak!" Tenzin tried to slightly lean towards him, almost put a hand on his shoulder, "_When will you learn that?"_

The boy turned around and put his helmet back on; "I have a match to finish."

Tenzin was left there with his hand held up awkwardly, no longer angry, but with a heavy sense of _disappointment_ that wasn't entirely directed at Korrak.

As bad as he felt, standing there looking like an idiot wouldn't change anything, and Tenzin went back up the stairs towards the nearest exit with his head bent much lower than normal. He could vaguely hear the commentator blaring out the game's progress, cheerily lamenting the Avatar's poor situation and the probabilities of his debut being cut short by his inexperience. Tenzin sighed. He didn't want to think of all the ways he could have handled the situation better, because, looking back on it, there were too many shortcomings to admit. It was only a matter of time before…

"_Hold the phone! Stop the presses! He's still in the game, folks! And he's moving like an entirely different player! All of a sudden, the Platypus Bears' strikes are only striking air!"_

The key is to be like the leaf. Flow with the movement of the gates…

"How about that?"


	3. Tenzin: Boys don't cry (part 2)

**Chapter 3:** Tenzin, _Boys don't cry _(part two)

I don't like admitting it as much as the nearest person would, but… I'm complete garbage. Anyone who deigns to read this fic is special in my eyes, and I've waited all of _six months_ to post a chapter (and it's short as hell!), which just sucks. But I hope you enjoy it, and review if you want me to know what you think!

After two days had come and gone, remembering Korrak's first training sessions felt more and more like looking back on a bad dream. Between his new membership in the Fire Ferrets and Tenzin's airbending lessons (he wasn't able to bend it yet, but he could go through the spinning gates and back without hitting a single hitch; Tenzin hadn't felt so proud since the first time Jinora got it right, when she was six years old), the Avatar was pleasantly busy. In passing, Tenzin even came to realize that Korrak wasn't, in fact, as obnoxious as he had seemed when Tenzin's judgment was clouded by impatience; his cockiness and occasional naïveté were even… rather endearing. It helped that he was the perfect age to be his son, and that the kids already saw him as a "cool" older brother. Something more than a mentor-student relationship was brewing, and it would be a lie to say that the island wasn't a happier place because of that.

At least until the night of the Revelation, when Korrak came back home after being gone a full twenty-four hours, alarmingly quiet, and told Tenzin in almost a murmur (though it was no secret anymore) that Amon had the power to take people's bending. There was no place for disbelief, or the possibility of it being an elaborate performance.

One thing was clear: even though that madman had started with gangsters, soon enough no bender would be safe.

_That_ still was no reason to take such extreme measures, and even less to establish a task force to hunt down the Equalists. Lin probably wouldn't think about it twice (she and Korrak would get along if they weren't so busy growling at each other), but Tenzin knew very well that the fear would only spread. Honestly, he was at the forefront of the list of those who would be most affected by it, and could only pray that Korrak wouldn't find out about the task force and rush to join it in a wave of misplaced good intentions.

…

In the end it was not good intentions what got Korrak to become Taraka's publicity puppet, but pride. If Tenzin hadn't been convinced that the council's Chairwoman was the reincarnation of his friend Izumi's Aunt Azula before, he was now.

"_Even_ if he has already accepted, I cannot give my approval unless you vouch for his safety," he snapped at her. He couldn't have discussed the matter during last night's gala, or brought personal issues into the Council chamber, but the deserted hallway was a good enough place to talk.

Taraka flashed him a bright smile, as if pleasantly squabbling with an old friend. "Safety? Approval? Oh, Tenzin, if only I had known you were such a mother hen…" and briefly chuckled. "I truly am sorry for upsetting you, but I'm sure the Avatar can handle himself against a few Equalists. He's quite the talented young man, despite what you may think."

_Oh, good set-up._ Of course, he would answer that he had no doubt in Korrak's strength, and following that she would ask _why_ Tenzin was so unwilling to let him go, pat his shoulder and reassure that his worries were baseless; let the boy breathe, give him some space… all while she closed her claws around Tenzin's ward and played him like a puppet.

"_I think_," he answered while stepping closer to Taraka and drawing himself to his full height, "that you are a mockery of everything that someone called the 'city's protector' should stand for. I don't know what sort of scheme you have up your sleeve this time, Taraka, but no damage have better come to Korrak because of it. And if it does, _I swear on my father's grave_, you'll have to wave goodbye to your political career."

The Water Tribe woman in front of him seemed unfazed by his threat, but at least she had stopped smiling. Taraka half-turned around to grasp the doorknob to her office, and arranged the stack of papers she had under her arm (task force-concerning forms to be filled, authorizations for stake-outs and such).

"Do you think I'd let the enemy harm my greatest asset before our true mission even begins?" she asked over her shoulder, "That being said, Tenzin, I'm not the Avatar's nanny. Your job consists in upholding the peace… mine's all about managing what happens when you _fail_."

…

_It's okay to be scared. The whole city is frightened by what's been going on. The important thing is to talk about our fears, because if we don't, they can throw us out of balance…_

…

He hadn't been de-bended. He wasn't hurt, thank goodness. Korrak looked stunned, as would probably anyone after being summarily knocked out, but there were no visible wounds or bruises, and the little flame dancing in the palm of his hand attested that nothing was wrong. Nothing was wrong. Nothing was wrong. Nothing was-

"What's the matter?" Tenzin asked, sensing Korrak's tensed back and the shivering of his hands.

The boy kept his eyes on the paved floor and breathed heavily. "Nothing. I… I got caught by surprise, that's all."

Tenzin knew something was terribly wrong even before noticing how watery Korrak's eyes were; he was breathing far too quickly for it to be normal. Tenzin tentatively put a comforting arm around his shoulders, saw him clench a fist-

And silently start crying into his robes.

"I was terrified… I-I was… _helpless_. I'm not supposed to feel this way-"

"It's alright," Tenzin answered in the gentlest voice he had, "the nightmare is over." _No one can tell you what you're _supposed_ to feel._

"You… you were right…" Korrak stuttered while wiping away a tear with his wrist, "I've been scared this whole time. I've never felt this way before, and…" he looked so desperate, so small despite all his strength, so alone that it was like going back twenty years and looking into a mirror, "Tenzin, I don't know what to do…!"

Tenzin put his arms around Korrak, both wanting to reach into the past and mend his own mistakes, and wanting this poor boy that he held so dear to stop suffering.

"Admitting your fears is the first, and most difficult step, in overcoming them."

And it was good advice, even if it wasn't what Korrak wanted to hear. Judging by Tenzin's experience, he was desperate for reassurance that he'd done nothing wrong, that there was a solution, an easy way out of this pain.

There wasn't. He'd need a lot strength just to get through this trauma, and Tenzin was suddenly, painfully conscious of how _unprepared_ Korrak was.

A few nights later, Tenzin heard a soft whining noise coming from down the hall while walking to his and Pema's (and occasionally Meelo's) room. Slightly concerned, he knocked on Korrak's door in case it came from Naga. After getting no answer, he delicately slid the panel a few inches.

Naga was indeed whining, nosing at her human with the concern of a mother while Korrak petted her distractedly. The bed covers had been kicked off to the other side of the room, and- was that a scorch mark on the wall?

_Night terrors_, Tenzin thought, and sighed internally.

"Is everything alright?" he asked from the entrance, not wanting to invade his privacy unless it was necessary.

It took Korrak some ten seconds to answer. "Yeah, it's okay. Just having a bad dream."

"Would you like tea? Or…" he caught himself before saying 'medicine' and instead replaced it with "anything?"

"No, thanks," Korrak said without even looking at him. "I'm good."

_I know it's hard trying to be the man everyone expects you to. I know it hurts, but _you're not alone.

"Tenzin?"

He turned back to find Korrak's wide-eyed and tight-lipped face, looking almost shy.

"You… you haven't told anyone, have you? About…" he made a hand sign that could be interpreted as 'crying'.

Tenzin felt a knot forming in his stomach. "No, Korrak, I haven't. Don't worry."


End file.
